City of Souls
by Fenric'sGames
Summary: The Doctor and Donna arrive in a deserted city on Earth. But to save it from the clutches of the evil Prentrilons, the Doctor must work with himself - again.
1. Chapter 1

The beach, she'd said. Let's go to the beach. She'd just wanted a rest. The last few escapades in the TARDIS had been tiring. First, the Doctor had accidentally become the first recipient of a gold medal for moon buggy racing in the 2188 Olympics, then they'd been involved in the disappearance of Agatha Christie in 1926 and afterwards had to save a colony of humanoid ants from the clutches of the Androvax.

Now, Donna Noble was ready to rest, but she couldn't. She and the Doctor had returned to the TARDIS, and as soon as the Doctor had pulled one lever on the console, they had both been flung around the room. The console started exploding spitting sparks and flames everywhere. They were now trying desperately to hold onto something so as not to be injured.

At last, the nightmare stopped and the TARDIS was still. Donna lay sideways on the floor, grateful that she could still feel her entire body. She slowly got to her feet and breathed with relief.

The Doctor was already up, scratching the back of his head and studying the TARDIS controls with extreme confusion.

"Sorry about that," he said. "That lever definitely didn't do that last time I used it."

"Just tell me where we are," Donna said.

"Haven't the foggiest," the Doctor smiled. "It's more fun that way."

He adjusted the necktie beneath his now crumpled brown pinstripe suit, smiled and ran to the door, on the way collecting his long brown coat, unceremoniously dumped over one of the strange tree-like struts dotted throughout the room, and slid it on in one brief "swish".

"Coming?" he said, hand hovering anxiously over the door handle.

Donna sighed. She just wanted a rest. "Coming," she said eventually.

The city was a mess. All around, broken windows, turned over cars and deserted shops. Not a soul was in sight and it seemed as if the whole of existence was covered in a blanket of silence. As the sun rose, illuminating the emptiness, it reflected off large spider webs hanging from street signs. Inside some of the cars were the remains of mangled human bodies, bent and twisted and decaying. Slowly, the small sounds of buzzing insects started as they began to forage in this apocalyptic scene.

It was in the midst of this, that the TARDIS had landed. It's materialisation had frightened a small family of rats, who went scurrying with loud squeaks into the furthest corners of the roads.

The Doctor stepped out, Donna behind him. The two surveyed the deserted streets in silence.

The Doctor's bubbly enthusiasm simmered as he took in the destruction and the silence. He put his hands in his pockets and strutted slowly into the middle of the road.

"Looks like nobody's home," he said, as though a deserted city was everyday for him.

Donna was shocked. "It's Earth, isn't it?" she said.

The Doctor jumped from one foot to other a few times. "Well, it's definitely Earth's gravity," he replied.

"Where are we? And when?"

The Doctor shrugged unhelpfully. "It feels like early twenty-first century, say, maybe, 2014?"

"2014?"

"Roughly. Give or take a few years."

They walked together to the other side of the road to the front of a café. Outside, overturned tables and chairs. The door had been ripped from its hinges. Inside, the same overturned furniture and a floor covered in broken glass.

The Doctor looked at Donna, clearly worried. "This isn't good," he said.

Donna put the outside tables and chairs on their feet. "What happened here?" she gasped. "I don't like this, Doctor."

"Me neither," he replied. He pulled a torch from his coat pocket and cautiously entered the café.

The converse trainers immediately came down on broken glass.

"Careful," he warned Donna. He shone the torch around the room. Every window had been smashed, every light, torn from its fitting and dangling dangerously from the ceiling. The till lay misshapen on the floor, sitting amongst coffee machines and milkshake glasses.

"It's like some sort of post apocalypse," said Donna.

The Doctor gave her a face. "Don't expect to meet to any Hollywood stars here." He pointed the torch towards the back wall. It was covered in large black scrawl, clearly written in a hurry. "GO BACK!" and "STAY AWAY!" and "THE END HAS COME!" written over the top of each other.

The Doctor spotted another door, presumably leading to some sort of back room and went to open it to find it was locked. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver and was about to use it when from behind him came a loud crash.

He turned to see that Donna had slipped on glass and collided with a table.

"Are you hurt?" he enquired.

"I think I'm bleeding."

Sure enough, a piece of upturned glass and made a large gash in the side of Donna's leg.

The Doctor grabbed some abandoned napkins and shook the dirt out. "Not quite to OHS standards," he said, pressing them against Donna's leg. She gritted her teeth in pain.

Then, the Doctor suddenly pricked his head up.

"What's wrong?" asked Donna, still gasping.

"Shh. I thought I heard something."

A soft, " _plod, plod, plod_ " could be heard from behind the inner door.

"Quick," whispered the Doctor. "Behind that table."

They shuffled carefully behind the table and waited.

The door opened with an audible creak. From her position, Donna could just make out two feet. They were large, scaly and had only three toes.

She and the Doctor were not alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Donna didn't dare move a muscle. She could hear whatever it was behind the table breathing and it frightened her. It was a sort of low pitched rasping. She could also hear the sound of the large feet shuffling over the broken glass. She was frozen with terror.

If she wasn't so focused on the creature behind her, she may have heard the sound of distant running. She may also have heard the loading of rifles from outside. Had she heard these things, she may not have had such a shock when from outside there came a shout.

"Oi, you two!"

But the warning came too late. The table suddenly flew sideways.

Standing over the Doctor and Donna was a creature, easily over six feet tall, with short stumpy arms that ended in four pointed talons. The face was long and scaly, two sparkling black dots for eyes, no noticeable nose and a mouth housing several sharpened fangs, the ends of which glistened in the daylight.

It let out an almighty roar and raised one of its arms to attack.

"Come on," screamed the Doctor, grabbing Donna's hand.

Donna protested. "I can't run," she said, pointing to her leg.

"They've got wounded," called the voice from before and from nowhere, three armed soldiers ran towards the creature, firing on it constantly.

The Doctor helped Donna up and carried her out as quickly as he could.

"What is it?" Donna asked.

"It's a Prentrilon," said the Doctor.

"What's a Prentrilon?"

"An augmented Terileptil," replied the Doctor.

"Yeah, Earth girl, remember?"

"Terileptils are a race of humanoids reptiles, who, among their many endeavors are incredibly warlike. They had a nasty war with the Drahvins for thousands of years and even tried to enslave the Sontarans at one point."

"The Sontarans won, surely?" said Donna, remembering her own encounter with the warrior clone race on Earth.

"Well, if you can call it winning," said the Doctor, leaning Donna against a wall. "Stay there," he said ran back towards the café.

"Stop shooting it!" he shouted. "Bullets can't hurt a Prentrilon."

As he spoke, the Prentrilon kicked a table like a soccer ball. It hit one of the three soldiers in the head and he fell to the ground, lifeless.

The Prentrilon turned to the other two soldiers and advanced.

"Stop shooting," the Doctor shouted again.

"It's the only way to keep it back," said one of the soldiers.

"Bullets can't stop it," said the Doctor.

"Then what can?"

"This," said the Doctor, pulling the battery out of his torch. He made a few adjustments with the sonic screwdriver.

"Close your eyes," he said and hurled the battery at the Prentrilon.

It screamed and flailed for a few seconds before falling over.

"Is it dead?"

"No. Just knocked out for the time," said the Doctor.

"Doctor!" Donna screamed. "Behind you!" On the other side of the road, a building door was knocked down and several other Prentrilons started towards them.

"Private, a battery," said the Doctor. "Any will do."

"Never mind that," said the soldier. "Hutchins!"

The other soldier snapped to attention. "Yes, sir?"

"Take these two to the base and get her to the Doctor," he indicated Donna.

"Sorry," interrupted the Doctor, "Doctor who?"

"He's just the Doctor," said the soldier. "Go, Hutchins."

"You don't have to do this. We can..." started the Doctor, but he was cut off.

"You're going to need time to get her out. I'm giving you that time, now go!"

He ran towards the Prentrilons firing.

The Doctor started running towards them.

"No," said Hutchins. "We can't help him now."

"Hutchins," said the Doctor. "You'd better tell me what's going on."

"Come back to our base and we'll answer each other's questions."

The walk back to the base was long and tiring. Having taken turns in helping Donna, both the Doctor and Hutchins were pooped when the journey was over.

The base itself had been set up in an abandoned underground nightclub, well barricaded and secured. The three of them entered and were immediately assisted by several other soldiers.

"Get her to the Doctor," said Hutchins.

"Yes," said the Doctor. "I'd like to meet this "Doctor".

"He'll want to talk to you," said Hutchins. "Nobody else knows what these things are, but you do. And so does he."

"Does he now?"

The Doctor and Donna were led through several corridors to a small operating theatre. At the back of the room was a chair, its back to the door.

"Doctor," called Hutchins. "We've got a patient for you. Leg wound. Deep cut from some glass."

"Lay her down on the couch," said the figure in the chair. It was a voice that the Doctor recognised.

"Who are you?" he asked.

The chair turned around to reveal a man. He was almost as tall as the Doctor and just as thin. However, his attire was much more Victorian, a long dark green coat, silver waistcoat and grey cravat. He had curly hair and a strong jaw. It was the Eighth Doctor.


End file.
